Tag: writers creed

Darkling

Under waning moon and festooned sky

With darkness to illuminate the night

It is already morning

Though beneath blackened heavens

One couldn’t hope to know

It will soon reverse its darkling effect.

This is faith beyond the wraith

This is hope surpassing spectres

Yesterday’s sun is no

Assurance of today’s

But faith sticks out its hand

Until warmed by mornings kiss.

– Vagabond Prophet

Reflections

Does the sea reflect the sky

Or the sky the sea?

For the water cool and still

They placid extract a pure blue.

Yet if they swell and spit

Should they whirlpool

I see black clouds enraged

Above my splitting gunnels.

If I survive my storm

And you weather yours

Should our eyes meet again

I’ll find love reflected in yours

On distant sandy shores.

– Vagabond Prophet

Volunteer

A volunteer from the crowd now

Step behind the shroud now

While I run you through

With steely knives.

It is plainly murder

But the crowd goes wild

As long as bright red smile

Is painted on the face.

Stay your quarrelsome tongue

While this logic you’ve clung

Listens to my explanation.

In any other scenario

You’d demand my blood too

But when I’m on the stage

And you’re in your chair

I make the rules

Understand?

– Vagabond Prophet

Okay that was weird. Thanks @josy57 for the prompt “in any other scenario.” Really don’t know where this came from…

Blue Rose

vagabondprophet:

First date I brought you a blue rose

You said nobody had ever given you one before.

A blue rose?

No.

A flower.

I couldn’t believe it,

You, my pride and joy

My flower everblooming.

I’ll spend my days being your soil,

Pruning bits that

Hinder growth.

It’ll be different for our daughter.

I’ll see to it.

One day a boy will knock for her,

Baring a flower in his hands.

Our daughter will say,

“That’s it, just one?,

Thanks but no thanks

I’ll stick with my daddy,

He knows I’m worth much more.”

– Vagabond Prophet

@delightfulharmonypoetry

Shake hands with worry

Make all courage scurry

Give a nod to fury

Jingling his keys.

Veins pumping vanity

It’s vain it’s insanity

As I travel from solstice of length

To the solstice of brevity.

Trample something damp

To make myself feel strong.

I’m the prophet who having

Seen his own defeat

Only had bravery galvanized

To prove the fates wrong.

I chew on keys

To unlock the words stuck

On the tip of my tongue.

I should have known

How this would end

I had been tonguing

The fatal flaw for months.

And when I brought my

Jaws down to crush that dinner

I should have known

I’d be defeated, fractured into pieces.

– Vagabond Prophet

@josy57 thanks for the prompt “knowing when to lose.” This thing is weird but there it is. Out in the world now.